Leverage: Bump In The Night
by alexabeamer
Summary: When a goddess asks for your help, how do you refuse?
1. Chapter 1: Favor

**Leverage: Bump in the Night**

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except, of course, for my original characters.

If you don't like fantasy/supernatural fics, don't read this. It's got everything from vampires to goddesses in it. Just letting you know. Oh, and no romance or pairings, unless the mandatory sexual tension between Sophie and Nate counts, though there won't be much of that here.

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"Hello, Mr. Ford." A timid voice said. Nathan Ford turned to see what he presumed was a woman behind him. The voice was too high to be a man's, but he knew of men with high-pitched voices… _How did she get past the others undetected? A thief doesn't live long if they're unaware of their surroundings, and my crew's supposed to be the best. _He thought, looking at the stranger closely.

She was strange enough to be noticed at once: large sunglasses and a hat made it impossible to make out facial details. Her long brown hair hid the sides of her face, making her even more unidentifiable. She was short, around five feet tall, wearing an ankle-length black skirt and a bulky hoody, her neck hidden by the collar of the shirt underneath, that hid her form completely. Her shoes were black and neatly covered by her skirt. If she passed him on the street in different clothes, Nate would be none the wiser.

"You don't remember me, do you, Mr. Ford?" The woman said, smiling a little. "Perhaps this will help you." She said, taking off her sunglasses and looking straight at him. Nate took a step backwards, shocked.

There was only one girl Nate knew who had amber eyes.

"Michelle? Michelle Bager?" He managed to say. "I haven't seen you in _years_, Michelle. How long has it been? What have you been doing all this time?"

"It's only been three years, Mr. Ford. I didn't think you'd forget me so quickly." Michelle smiled again. "As to what I've been doing…that's why I'm here."

"If you're looking for a job, I'm sorry, Michelle, but-."

"No, not a job, per say." Michelle quickly interrupted. "At least, not for myself. For you, Mr. Ford. A job for you." Nate hesitated; the last time he had seen Michelle had been the darkest time of his life.

"I can't pay your, Mr. Ford, but only because I'm not the one hiring you. You remember Miss Starla, don't you?" Nate turned around, mind reeling. _Starla_… When he turned back, Michelle had vanished, a small white business card on the floor. Hardison poked his head through the doorway, then crouched to pick up the business card.

"Thinking about going clubbing, Nate?" He asked, amused. He couldn't picture Nate, _Nate Ford_ of all people, going clubbing. He was just too, too…innocent wasn't the word, but _upright_ fit.

"No, Hardison, we got a job. Get everyone together for a briefing."

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Let me know what you think everyone. I, like every other author here, love reviews. Especially long ones, but that's just a suggestion.

Since Leverage is a relatively new show, only beginning December 08, the characters aren't really developed completely, so I'm not sure if they'll be out of character or not. If you think they are, tell me and I'll try to fix it. Thanks!


	2. Chapter 2: Starla

Thank you for waiting so long and please enjoy!

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The flight from Chicago to Houston was relatively quick, though Hardison had to restrain Parker a few times; she thought it would be a great idea to open the cabin door and go skydiving. When Hardison had asked her where she was going to get a parachute, Parker had called for blankets from the flight attendants. Just another reason the adjective used to describe Parker was usually this one: _insane_.

The club wasn't easy to find, even with Hardison's help. It was in the middle of nowhere, only technically in Houston, within a huge gated community. There was a main road going down the community, with three lanes on both sides of the large median in the middle.

The houses on the right side of the road were large and sprawling, with immaculately groomed lawns; they were Victorian-style, and practically _smelt_ of money. The left side of the street was fenced in, accessible by a single large gate, one of wrought iron, the spikes at the top of the fence made of a silvery material. A dense line of trees down the length of the fence made it nearly impossible to see the houses within the gate. As they drove past, they could see the words, 'Hunter's Creek' above the gate.

They drove for another half-hour, passing through what seemed to be a commerce center; there was a health center, a gym, a small grocery store, and, oddly enough, a store that sold hunting equipment.

Finally, Nate drove down a narrow side-street, pulling up in front of a large, plain building. There was no sign outside or anything to set it apart from a storage facility. But Nate insisted that it was the club, so the others followed him inside, if a bit hesitant.

Inside was cool, low-lit, and quite ordinary. It was a long rectangle of a room with not a lot in it. Poles for dancers were set on raised platforms that were lit from below. There was a bar in one corner, various liquids in colorful bottles lining the wall behind it; spindly chairs and tables were scattered in the area near the bar. A narrow stage was set against the wall opposite the entrance, framed by red velvet curtains.

"Mr. Ford, you came!" Nate turned to see Michelle standing there, dressed in the clothes he had last seen her in, minus the hoody; instead, she wore a grey turtleneck. Not waiting to exchange pleasantries, Nate cut straight to the chase.

"Where's Starla, Michelle?" He asked, voice low. Michelle only smiled and walked away, glancing back to make sure they were following.

"I am not liking this, man. Who knows where she's leading us?" Hardison said in a low voice, following nevertheless. Eliot shrugged.

"Don't know. Nate seems to trust her." He said simply. He wasn't really worried; he had walked out of worst situations before. He just hoped this 'Starla' lady wasn't one to carry guns.

"Just through here." Michelle said, opening a dark wooden door. They stepped through the doorway, the thieves flinching when the door shut behind them with a sharp _click_.

The room was large and dark, with dim lighting and dark navy walls. The floor was black granite that sparkled with reflected light; looking up, the ceiling was littered with tiny, pale yellow lights that looked like stars. A single large white light at the center of the ceiling was partially covered, making it look like an almost-full moon.

"So, Nathan Ford, we meet again." A soft voice said from right behind Nate. He turned around to find himself face to face with Starla. She was dressed in a slinky little black dress that hugged her body, the low light hitting her every curve perfectly, making her the picture of beauty. Her long black hair looked like a professional hairstylist had been involved, the loose ebony curls falling down her back like a dark gleaming river. When she moved, she moved silently, deliberately, her hips swaying in a hypnotizing manner, as though she was on a stage and the entire world was watching.

"You haven't aged a day, Ms Starla." She waved a hand dismissively, blue nails flashing, but it was true. Starla was just as sexy as she had been three years ago. And she knew it, too, which made her all the more dangerous. She wrapped his hand in hers, her touch ice-cold.

"Oh, don't call me that, Nicky." Starla said with a pout, dark red lips curling into a playful smile. "I know we haven't seen each other for a while, but there's no need to get…" She stepped closer to him, close enough that he could feel her breath on his cheek, smell her light perfume, see the streaks of silver in her otherwise blue eyes. "_formal_." She whispered. She smirked when he shivered a little, and stepped away, apparently satisfied by his reaction. Yes, Nate decided, Starla hadn't changed a bit.

"I take it your pets know all about my little business?" Starla didn't wait for an answer, silencing the thieves' protests with a glance.

"Hardison did some research."

"Ah, we have a sparker, do we?" Starla asked softly, coming to stand before Hardison, who was looking more than a little nervous. Nate wondered if any man could _not_ be nervous around Starla; even he was wary of the woman, and she considered him a friend. Nate didn't want to imagine how she acted around her enemies.

Starla raised a hand to lightly trace Hardison's jaw, smiling when he flinched. "I thought you knew my opinion on them, Nicky." Starla said, a flint edge in her words, though she never looked away from Hardison.

"If you want the job done, he stays." Nate said, trying to appear confident. Starla looked at Hardison for a few more seconds, then turned to Eliot, who was as relaxed and calm as he always was. Starla circled him, eyes gleaming in the low light.

"Ah, my type of man, this one. Is he mine to play with?" Starla asked, smiling.

"No, he's on my team." Nate said. "Look, Starla, I know you're a busy woman, so why not tell us about this job?" Nate said, trying to distract the woman from Eliot.

"Later, Nicky, later. You must be tired from your long trip down here." Starla moved silently away from Eliot. "I think all of you should take a break before I tell you everything." She said.

"I know you, Starla. Even after we get the details of the job, you won't tell us everything. You never do. You always have a little secret or two hidden away." Nate said; he'd forgotten how frustrating Starla was when it came to work.

"Who are they?" Someone said in a low, gravelly voice. They turned to see a man standing at the doorway, arms folded over his chest. He was large and nicely muscled, enough to scare even the bravest man away. He looked like he was in his mid-thirties, but his silvery hair said different, maybe late forties. Dressed all in black, his shirt tight against his body, he was quite a menacing sight. But Starla was at his side in an instant, laying her head against his arm.

"Nothing, they're nothing, just a new shipment of feedbags for our nighttime friends." She said, completely at ease, like Sophie was when breaking the law. "Now go away, Daryl." The man growled, but he soon left. Starla stared at the closed door for a moment; with her back to them, the thieves couldn't tell what she was thinking. She sighed and seemed to deflate before them, sagging slightly, as though a great invisible weight was pressing down on her shoulders. When Starla turned around to face them, she managed a weak smile, but it had lost its sexy, dangerous edge. She looked tired to the bone.

"Retire, all of you. Rest easy, you won't be disturbed. When I need you, I'll call." She said before disappearing into the shadows.

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Hey everyone, sorry I haven't uploaded anything in a while. I haven't seen any _Leverage_ episodes lately, so the characters might be a bit off. Also, I've been bitten by the _CSI_ bug and that's distracted me a lot. Anyway, let me know what you think. I'm having a hard time with Parker's character; I'm one of those people who are creative, but like order and rationality. I can't write crazy too well, so if you have any suggestions, tell me!

Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3: Information

"Why are we here, man?" Hardison asked from the couch, whining like a bored child desperate to leave. He looked away from the huge screen showing the latest football game to glare at Nate. "We've been waiting here for two days and we haven't heard a thing from Starla."

'Here' was where Michelle had taken them; it was a large apartment, big enough to house the thieves comfortably if one of them slept on the sofa bed. They hadn't heard any music through the floor, and it was easy to forget they were above the club.

Though nice and sunlit thanks to large windows, it was their prison. Michelle got them takeout or brought ingredients so they could cook their own meals; the most they could do was open the door for her, but never set foot outside. They weren't allowed to leave; while they could have easily broken out, Nate had convinced them that it was for the best if they stayed inside.

Nate sat down next to Hardison and ran a hand through his hair.

"She's a busy woman, Hardison. She said she'd call us when we were needed." He said, but he too was restless. He looked at his team and saw that they weren't convinced they needed to stay. The fact that they were still around was comforting; they trusted his judgment enough to stay when all they wanted to do was leave, showing just how devoted they were to Nate, even though they had only been a team for a short time. However, he could see that what little trust they had in Starla was quickly waning.

"Give her one more day. If she doesn't call us, I'll talk to her." The team settled down and Nate breathed a silent sigh of relief.

Their waiting paid off that night.

Around three in the morning, there was a loud scratching on their door. Parker got there first, but before she could peer through the peephole, the door exploded in a shower of splinters and sawdust. Parker was thrown against the nearest wall, sliding down to lie in a crumpled heap on the floor.

The others came running, weapons at the ready.

"What the hell is that?" Hardison yelled, staring in horror at the dog in the doorway. Its yellow eyes shifted to glare at him from the doorway, its black lips curling to reveal long fangs that glistened in the moonlight streaming through the living room window. Rust-red in color, with Husky-like markings, it was the largest dog Hardison had ever seen; its shoulders were probably at the same height as his hips!

"_Fuck_…" Nate murmured. "Everyone, get back! You don't know what you're dealing with!"

"But, Nate! _Parker_!" Eliot protested, gesturing to the fallen blonde thief. Taking a deep breath, Nate prayed Starla hadn't betrayed him. He reached up and pressed his fingers into the back of his neck, hard enough to be painful.

"Starla." He whispered, not noticing Sophie's alarmed, jealous glance. For a moment, nothing happened.

Then the dog was on the ground, clawing at its own face, yelps and barks of pain escaping its mouth, its muscles jerking wildly, as though it was having a violent seizure.

"These ones are under my protection." Starla said darkly, appearing behind the still-writhing dog. She titled her head, hair falling to one side. "You're new." The dog was suddenly still and lay at Starla's feet, its sides heaving as it gasped for breath, blood dribbling from the deep gauges on its muzzle.

"You don't recognize him." Nate said. Starla shook her head.

"He is young and belongs to none that I know." The dog shuddered at the sound of her voice and rolled over onto its back, pale underbelly exposed. Starla ignored it.

"I will take him for the night and see if anyone claims him in the morning." She snapped her fingers and the dog scrambled to its feet, crouching low to the ground, tail tucked between its legs. Starla turned to leave.

"What about Parker?" Hardison demanded, voice tight with anger. Starla looked back and smiled reassuringly.

"She will be stiff come sunup, but she is otherwise fine."

"Starla, enough screwing around. Either tell us about the job or we walk out right now." Nate growled. He was unwilling to let another of his team get hurt. Starla sighed.

"Come with me. All of you. The one you call Parker will be cared for by Michelle." They followed her and the dog downstairs to the room where they had first met. This time, there was a long glass table in the middle of the room, a large TV screen at the head of the table. Starla sat at one end, the dog at her feet, Nate across from her, the others sitting on Nate's side.

"I need you to bring me a body."

---

"What?!" Nate yelled, scrambling to his feet, his team doing the same. Starla merely smiled.

"You heard me perfectly well, Nicky. I need you to bring be a body." Starla flapped a hand when the thieves opened their mouths. "Yes, I know, not your normal request, but it needs to be done." She looked at Nate. "You owe me a favor, Nicky, or are you not a man of honor nowadays?" Nate bristled at the implication.

"Who died?" He asked, sitting down, his chair squeaking. Slowly, the others sat down, silent, knowing that this was a conversation between Nate and Starla only.

"A Signor Bernard Duilio." Nate let out a rush of air; with a name like that, this mystery person was bound to be bad news.

"When did he die?" He asked, wishing the others would say something. Having Starla's full attention was uncomfortable. Starla laughed.

"Nicky, ever the jester." The thieves exchanged confused looks; Nate, a jester? The only time he joked was when they were on a job.

"He's been dead for more than a thousand years, give or take a few years." Nate only sighed at his team's sharp gasps. Starla quirked a slender eyebrow, amused.

"You didn't tell them? About me, about my world?" Nate shook his head. Starla's voice took on a steely edge Nate had never heard before. "You knew who I deal with, Nathan, yet you brought in a team, of _humans_ I might add, and did not tell them what they would encounter?" With each word, Starla's voice got softer and softer in a dangerous way; when she stood up, the thieves tensed, expecting a fight. "You purposefully endangered their lives?"

"No, I decided that you would be a much better teacher in things that go 'bump in the night' than me. You do work with them." Nate said, smiling to show he wasn't intimidated. Starla smiled, satisfied by his answer. Nate breathed deeply, relieved to still be alive; if he had said that at a different time on a different day, who knew what Starla would have done to him? She was as fickle as a cat and her moods changed from moment to moment.

Starla walked around the table, the dog following her, until she stood behind the thieves. They swiveled their chairs to face her, not trusting her enough to leaving their backs exposed.

"Alright, Nicky, I will. Now, pay attention, children." The thieves glared at her, disgruntled, not at all happy about being called children.

"This," Starla pointed to the dog. "is a werewolf."

---

Hardison was the first to laugh.

"You _know_ there's no such thing. Come on, seriously? Guys turning furry? Ear and tails? Yeah, right." He said, his words dripping with sarcasm. The others laughed, but only a little; Starla was glaring at them. Hardison's laughter slowly died beneath Starla's withering stare.

The team turned to Nate, expecting him to tell them Starla was joking, that this was just a big joke and someone had to crack soon because this was not funny because supernatural creatures didn't exist, exactly, they were just myths made up to scare people, or maybe based on Native American hunting techniques of putting wolf skins over them, but they weren't real, right?

But Nate's face was carefully blank.

"She's telling the truth." Was all he said. The thieves exchanged glances, unwilling to believe what Starla was saying.

"This is a werewolf." Starla repeated. "I'll prove it. Look." Starla pointed to the dog's front legs.

"At what?" Sophie asked. Starla glared at her.

"The legs are thick, muscled. A normal wolf's legs are twigs compared to these. And look at the muscle structure; his forelegs are built like a big cat's, not a wolf's." The others turned to Eliot; he was their animal expert as far as they were concerned.

Eliot slowly shook his head, not ready to believe Starla. He'd seen a handful of wolves before and knew what they were supposed to look like, and, while this dog was at least twice as big as any wolf he'd seen, there _had_ to be other reasons for its immense size.

"Probably a wolf-dog hybrid." Eliot said.

"Now, now, sweetheart. Pay attention when teacher is talking." Starla said in a honey-sweet voice that set Eliot on edge. "Since when do hybrids have these paws?" She pointed.

"They look like tiger feet, complete with claws." Hardison managed to say, staring at the animal's two-inch claws. It was true; the paws were too large, toes were longer than any wolf or dog's. As they watched, the claws retracted slightly, like a cat's claws did.

The longer they stared, the more plausible the creature being a werewolf seemed. Even if you dismissed its strange front legs, the animal was far too large, at least two hundred and eighty pounds, maybe even three hundred pounds, its muzzle broader and longer than a normal wolf's, its teeth too long. The strip of long fur running down its spine was something no regular wolf or dog had.

"But it's _red_, it looks like a Husky, or a Malamute." Eliot argued, trying to be rational.

"Young wolves had dog-like markings." Starla replied, glaring at him. She seemed to be doing a lot of that.

"You keep saying 'new' or 'young.' What does that mean, exactly?" Sophie asked, attempting to get Starla's attention off Eliot.

"He's been recently made." Nate said, abruptly joining the conversation. Everyone jumped; Nate had been quiet a long time. All eyes were suddenly on him. "Werewolves aren't born; the change from wolf to human is too violent for any werewolf child to survive past the first month in the womb."

"So how-?" Hardison began.

"When a human is attacked by a werewolf, there is a high chance of the victim becoming a werewolf."

"So a werewolf bite can change you into one?" Sophie asked, remembering the old myths. Nate shook his head.

"No, the attack has to be near-fatal for that to happen." He sighed and hung his head, though no one knew why. "They heal quickly from the attack, too quickly to be natural. But to become a werewolf, they have to survive their first Change from human to wolf on the night of the full moon."

"When did you learn so much, Nicky?" Starla asked quietly. "Last time we met, you were oblivious." Nate shrugged.

"I did some research." Was all he said.

"Since werewolves exist, there must be more creepy-crawlies, am I right?" Hardison asked with a nervous grin, really hoping werewolves were the only real 'mythical' creatures. His smile disappeared when Nate nodded.

"You name it, it exists. Trolls, shapeshifters, vampires. Anything you can think of."

"So what are you?" Eliot asked, looking at Starla. She smirked.

"I'm a goddess."

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Wow, I haven't worked on this in forever! Sorry for the long wait, but I've been really busy lately. This story probably takes place in the earlier episodes, as I've only seen around four episodes of _Leverage_ altogether.

Please tell me if the characters are OOC, what you think of the plot, anything!


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